It had been a Gucci. Too nice to be a knockoff.
“Thanks. My uncle gave it to me.” It was much later before I’d learned that her uncle was her married lover. That day, she’d said uncle and I’d assumed she’d really meant uncle.
She’d stood up then and pulled her blond hair back to show off her ears. “He gave me these too. Like?”
I’d leaned in closer than necessary to study her solitaire diamond studs. She’d smelled good, like menthol smoke and expensive shampoo. “They’re gorgeous,” I’d said, fingering one of the jewels, and I’d really wanted to say you’re gorgeous.
She put her cigarette out and cocked her head at me. “What are you doing now, anyway?”
“Just going to change.”
“After that. Wanna get high and hang out?”
It hadn’t dawned on me until then that she was likely working for Doug. An associate dealer, or something. She’d probably only talked to me so she could sell a bag.
“I don’t have any money.” It hurt to admit, not because I’d been embarrassed about being poor, but because I’d figured that would be the end of our conversation, and I hadn’t wanted to stop talking to her yet.
So I’d lit up like Christmas when instead of blowing me off she’d said, “No worries. My treat.”
We’d spent the rest of the afternoon together, smoking pot and dining on junk food. Later, she’d taken me to an apartment building construction site a few blocks away. It had been late in the day and most of the workers had gone home. The few that lingered had paid us no mind when she pulled me inside one of the stairwells and up to the top floor. I’d followed her through the maze of drywall and exposed pipes to what would eventually be a balcony. There hadn’t been a railing installed yet, so we’d sat at the edge, dangling our feet over the side. It had only been three stories up, but it had felt like so much higher, and not just because we’d been stoned.
We made our own little nest up there, smoking cigarettes and drinking Diet Coke and for the next few hours, time stood still as we talked and got to know each other.
Mostly, it had been Amber getting to know me. She was good at asking questions and even better at making me feel comfortable enough to answer them.
“What’s with all the baggy shirts you’re always wearing?” she’d asked, tugging on the oversized Dodgers T-shirt I’d changed into after stripping from my swimsuit. “You have great tits under there.”
“No, I don’t,” I’d giggled, my cheeks hot. “They’re… too big.”
“Baby, there’s no such thing as too big when it comes to tits. Show them to me.”
“Okay.” I hadn’t known what else to say. I’d figured she was kidding anyway. But then she was staring at me, waiting. “Right now?”
“Yeah, right now.” She followed my gaze as I surveyed the men working below. “Ignore them. You’ll make their year. Give them a new fantasy to whack off to later.”
“Okay.” I’d never done anything like strip in public. I was nervous and scared, but I wanted my new friend to think I was cool and brave like she was. So I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head.
“All of it,” she coaxed, when I paused before removing my bra.
A second later, I was topless, my DD breasts on display.
Hollers and catcalls came from the construction crew, but it was Amber’s response that had goose bumps puckering my skin.
“Jesus, Em, they’re incredible!” She leaned toward me, and, without asking, plumped a breast with her hand. “If I had your tits, I swear, I’d… I don’t know. I’d make all the men happy. No more of this sports bra shit.” She snagged my bra out of my hand and tossed it to the ground before I had a chance to stop her. “You need nice underwear for a premium rack like this.”
“But I don’t own any other kinds of bras.” I hurried to put my shirt back on, in case she got the idea to toss it as well.
“I’ll take you shopping. I have an open account at Nordstrom’s. I’ll buy you something sexy.”
I hugged my knees to my chest, strangely bashful after I’d put my clothes back on. “You have an open account? How the hell do you have that?”
“My uncle. He’s rich.”
“Nice uncle.” I’d been tentative about asking Amber questions, afraid I’d say something wrong and piss her off, but my curiosity got the better of me. “Why isn’t this rich uncle putting you up somewhere better than Doug’s house?”
She leaned back on her elbows and gave me an even look. “Good question. I guess I haven’t earned it yet.” It had been an interesting response, one that raised more questions than it answered.
I didn’t get a chance to find out if I was brave enough to ask anything further, though. Because apparently Amber had questions of her own, and she launched into a series of them, shooting them off one after another. “Have you had sex?”
“Yes.”
“More than oral?”
“Yes.” Once. It counted.
“A boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Do you shave your pussy?”
I blushed again. “I trim.”
“Have you ever kissed a girl?”
My blush deepened. “I have not.”
“Would you?”
“Yes. Probably.” But I was afraid she’d think I was gay and that she’d feel uncomfortable so I added, “But I like dick.”